


Roses

by Nasturtian



Series: John and John's Excellent Adventures [3]
Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: First Time, Fluff, John Donne again, M/M, Roses, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 08:31:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5450108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nasturtian/pseuds/Nasturtian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John Segundus woke, there were roses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roses

**Author's Note:**

> This continues the events of "The Perils of Poetry" but can be read on its own.

When John Segundus woke, there were roses. Not tamely corralled in a vase, nor scattered artistically across the bedclothes and floor, but twining thick and wild up the walls, across the ceiling, and over the window. The pale sunlight of an autumn morning glowed through the translucent red-and-white petals, tinting the room a warm golden-pink. 

He blinked once or twice to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Putting out a hand to touch the nearest cluster of blossoms, he found that his fingers passed right through them without resistance. _Obviously magic,_ he thought, with the familiar feeling of being slightly lightheaded, _but what sort? And to what purpose? Roses are for silence..._

Then John Childermass rolled over beside him, stretching and yawning like a huge cat, and Segundus remembered why the roses were there. 

"G'morning," Childermass slurred, sleep making his voice even more gravelly than usual. 

"Good - yes - very good," said Segundus, turning from the roses to look at the still lovelier sight of his John burrowing into the pillows. "Can you see it?"

"No," said Childermass, his eyes still resolutely shut. Then: "See what?"

"The garden."

"What are you on about?"

"The garden in here with us."

Childermass cracked one eye open. "Are you talking in your sleep again, John?"

"I'm quite awake, thank you. I believe it's the visual manifestation of the muffling spell you cast last night."

This made Childermass roll over and open both eyes. "Oh - I do see! I can smell them, too, now that you mention it...can you?"

"No. But it's so beautiful, John - doesn't the light look glorious?"

"Glorious," said Childermass, yawning again. "We can take it that the spell was a success, then. Thank God."

"Amen," said Segundus fervently. Neither of them had been at their most coherent the night before, when (halfway out of their clothes and tussling on Segundus's bed) Childermass had suddenly decided that he would cast a spell of silence over the room.

"Do you think it's necessary?" Segundus had said, out of breath. 

"Considering our plans for tonight, yes I do," said Childermass. "I've done this magic a few times before - it creates a barrier around a specific area, keeping sound from traveling out but not in."

"Fascinating! Did Mr Norrell teach it to you, or did you discover it yourself? Is it related to the enchantment used on Lady Pole and Stephen Black?"

"Can we discuss it later, perhaps?"

"Of course, I'm sorry. But - it only works in one direction? So if, for instance, the building catches on fire, we'll hear about it in time to avoid a horrible death? And, more importantly, we'll hear the breakfast gong?"

"In theory, yes."

"Go ahead, then."

So Childermass had cast the spell. 

Now Segundus, still admiring the fountains of flowers that had transformed his room into a paradise, said: "I wonder why we did not see them when you did the magic last night? Could it be a delayed reaction?"

"I rather think we didn't see it because we were busy doing another sort of magic," said Childermass, shifting so that his head rested in Segundus's lap and smiling slyly up at him. "Not to mention that I knocked the candle over and it was as dark as the inside of a cow."

"Do you know what I love about you? Your way with words," said Segundus, bending down to drop an upside-down kiss on Childermass's mouth. "Hm. You need to clean your teeth."

"So do you," said Childermass, kissing him back. 

Just then the first gong sounded, meaning that they had fifteen minutes until everyone was expected in the dining room for breakfast. 

"Do we have to go?" groaned Childermass, hitching the blankets up to his neck. 

"I do, at any rate. I have to announce the exam schedule."

"Surely Honeyfoot could do that?"

"He could if knew what they were, but I only got it sorted yesterday evening."

"Write it down and shove it under the door for Charles to find."

As though summoned by the mention of his name, the voice of Segundus's manservant came from the other side of the door, accompanied by a discreet knock. "Sir? Mr Segundus, are you up?"

"Blast - he's come with my shaving water," said Segundus. 

"That man is an absolute tyrant," grumbled Childermass. 

"Just because you manage to look dashing with three days' beard doesn't mean I can do the same," said Segundus, sliding out of the warm cocoon of quilts and hastily wrapping himself in his dressing gown. "Are you going to - oh." Childermass had rolled onto his side and, with a long exhale, took on the appearance of a shadow among the rumpled blankets. " _Coming,_ Charles! Oh, of course, he can't hear me, I forgot." The knocking had taken on an irritated tempo.

"Seeing you put on your clothes isn't as fun as the other way around, but I'll take what I can get," said the shadow.

"Just don't laugh or any thing while Charles is in here," said Segundus, then unbolted and opened the door.

"Ah! Sorry, sir, I thought you were still in bed," said Charles, looking startled. 

"Oh! I see," said Segundus, catching a glimpse of the corridor over Charles' shoulders. It was overgrown with red-and-white roses. He improvised. "I was troubled by the sound of mice in the walls last night, so I cast a muffling spell - I forgot to disperse it when I woke up. That is why you did not hear me answer you." He stood aside to let the manservant enter. Charles carried the steaming water over to the small table which bore the shaving apparatus, moving through the jungle of illusory roses without taking any notice of it.

"There you are, sir. I don't know if you heard it, what with that spell and all, but the breakfast gong went a moment ago. Do you want me to stay and help you dress?"

"No thank you, Charles, you may go. I will be in the dining room directly. I will take coffee this morning, if you please."

"Very good, sir." He bowed and departed.

"What was all that about mice?" said Childermass, turning back into himself as soon as the door was safely shut.

"Oh - I think you rather overshot the mark last night," said Segundus. "The hallway is full of roses. Lord knows how far into the school it went - you'd better lift it right away."

Childermass closed his eyes and spoke some words under his breath, and the flowers faded into nothingness. "There. All gone."

"Pity - they were beautiful."

"Not to worry," said Childermass. "We'll have need of them again soon enough."

***

_One week earlier_

Segundus walked back and forth on his bedroom floor, waiting for Childermass to make his appearance. The unaccustomed feelings that had filled him when he had been surprized by the content of Donne's Elegy 19, which spiked into pure _want_ when Childermass surprized him even more, had drained away over the course of a routine afternoon. Temporarily bereft of desire, he was fretting. What if he had given the impression that he was ready to do...things...that he hardly even knew how to define? What if Childermass arrived in the expectation of - 

And then Childermass did arrive, through the mirror on the dressing-table. The sight of a full-grown man emerging from a twelve-inch-square pane of glass switched Segundus's mind from sentimental concerns to his lifelong curiosity regarding magic. "Does that hurt?" he asked.

"Does what hurt?" said Childermass.

"Coming through such a small mirror."

"Not a bit. It appears on the other side as a full-sized door, and that is what it feels like - walking through a door. Though there is a strange tingle in the blood." He lifted an eyebrow. "You could come with me sometime, if you like."

"That would be most kind. I'm afraid I lack the courage to try it on my own."

"Personally I think it's proof of your good sense," said Childermass, moving beside him so that they both stood with their backs to the fire. "Faerie is a capricious place and not to be entered lightly. "

"Yet you've done so three times today already."

"I have some familiarity with the Roads."

Silence filled the room, initially comfortable but growing less so as it continued on and on. Finally Segundus cleared his throat and said: "Are you ready for more confessions, John?"

Childermass chuckled. "The last one proved extremely gratifying. What is it?"

"I have no idea how to -" he gestured helplessly " - how to go about - loving. You."

"I thought you had a good grasp on it when we spoke earlier today."

"Not _being_ in love with you, John. I mean the - the bed part. The mechanics - are not readily apparent to me - "

Childermass ended Segundus's tortured soliloquy by stepping close and putting his arms about him. Segundus went rigid, but finding that the other man did no more than hold him lightly, he relaxed. After a moment he went as far as to lean his head against the spot where he guessed Childermass's heart to be, and was rewarded with the steady _thud-thud_ beneath his ear. "I'm sorry," said Segundus. "I feel so ignorant."

"Don't apologize," said Childermass. "There is no place for shame here."

"Do you know - what to do? I mean, how to do it?" said Segundus, bracing himself for the answer.

Childermass paused. "Yes," he said eventually. "That would be my first confession to you, then."

"When?" asked Segundus, determined to know the worst. 

"Long ago."

"How long?" 

"About ten years. But then I met someone who made me see that if I couldn't do it with them, I didn't want to do it at all."

Segundus looked up, realized he was staring straight up Childermass's impressively proportioned nose, and leaned back a bit farther so that he could see his eyes too. "That is a long time to wait...but there I think I have you beaten," he said, feeling his tragic mood recede. 

Childermass grinned. "You do, at that. Well. How would you like to proceed? Shall we sit by the fire and talk, or do you want me to leave you to your esteemed repose?"

"I think," said Segundus slowly, "that I am tired. I will gladly be your student in these things, John - but right now, what I would like is for you to take _your_ esteemed repose - alongside me. As you see, the bed is a large one."

"All right, John."

This was the first in a series of nights spent together, as each grew used to the other's sleeping habits. They both enjoyed talking, finding that the words came easier, somehow, as they lay in the darkness. According to the longstanding tradition of bedfellows, one of them (Segundus) always found himself too warm, while the other (Childermass) was never quite warm enough. Left to his own devices, he would spend the night slowly winding every sheet and blanket around himself into a chrysalis of bedclothes, meaning that Segundus had to engage in some sleepy tug-of-war if he wanted to retain any coverings.

Childermass said that Segundus snored.

After about a week of this, Segundus said that he was ready for his education to begin in earnest. Childermass gave him a long, careful look. Then, poker-faced, he sat down beside him on the edge of the bed and started... _lecturing_. There was no other word for it. Occasionally he sketched a diagram on a piece of paper. Segundus listened with fascination that gave way to incredulity. When Childermass reached the conclusion of his lesson, Segundus started laughing. 

"What's so funny?" said Childermass. 

"You are," said Segundus. "You have managed to make this topic as matter-of-fact as - as - the multiplication tables! I congratulate you - I would not have thought it possible. Though," he added, "you should probably dispose of those illuminating diagrams."

"Ha, yes," said Childermass, crushing the paper into a ball and tossing it into the fire. "Now, like in any classroom, comes the important part: practical application." His smile had something of the wolf in it.

Segundus, who had continued to chuckle throughout this exchange, stopt. "I find," he said, "that now we come to the point, I do not know how to begin."

"I believe I have something here that might help," said Childermass, and to Segundus's amazement, he stood up and began to read from a notebook:

"Come, sir, come, all rest my powers defy,  
Until I labor, I in labor lie.  
The foe oft-times having the foe in sight,  
Is tired with standing though he never fight."

"Wait," said Segundus. "That's Elegy 19, isn't it?"

"Aye. I changed it a bit, since I doubt either of us wants to be called 'madam'."

"Indeed not." 

"May I continue?"

"By all means."

So Childermass did. He had altered words and phrases throughout so that it referred to waistcoats and cravats instead of busks and gowns. Though it lacked the flow and polish of the original, the thought of this rough-looking man painstakingly rewriting this poem with him, Segundus, in mind - well, it quite melted his heart.

"...cast all, yea, this white linen hence,  
There is no penance due to innocence.  
To teach thee, I am naked first; why than,  
What needst thou have more covering than this man?"

Childermass's voice was a bit muffled as he said the last lines, since he was pulling his shirt off over his head at the time. Holding the shirt in one hand and the notebook in the other, he looked down at Segundus, clearly uncertain as to how his action would be received. 

"You're right, that was quite effective," said Segundus, fumbling at his own collar. 

***

The next morning there were roses.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://nasturtian.tumblr.com) \- stop by and say hello!


End file.
